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New Found Fanfic (LOOKING FOR CHARACTERS)
14 years ago
General
So at the same time I've been drawing, I've been working on a little story set in a world you might be familiar with. I thought I'd post a lil' preview, so... lemme know what you think. >83
Once upon a time, so long ago that the world had not yet finished forming, there lived a great race of beings in tune with nature. Their advances in technology and the arts knew no equals. There was no disease. There was no crime. No poverty, either. All lived in joy and harmony. They were Perfect.
Unfortunately such a paradise could not last. Even the greatest of civilizations must fall, and perfection brings stagnation and prevents any further improvement. The Perfect were well aware of that fact. Their seers predicted a great catastrophe, one which would tear the heavens apart and spill them across the land. Despite their power preventing such a disaster was beyond the Perfect’s power. The seers also observed a new, inferior race which would rise amid the devastation. This new race would not have the wisdom of the Perfect, and in their greed and selfishness they would not only bring ruin to themselves, but they would also ruin the world they would inherit, making it forever barren and unfit for any life.
To prevent such a tragedy, the elder Perfect used the greatest of their magics and sciences to create powerful relics, objects that would activate at the time they’re needed most, just before their users fell too far for salvation. These relics would bond with whoever discovered them and at the same time bond them permanently to the natural, physical world, giving them the power to not only restore the lands that their fellow beings had plundered but also find redemption in themselves. Once the users had reached enlightenment, the power of the relics would be spread to followers of the users’ choosing, and so on until all was saved, giving them the wisdom to surpass the greatness of the Perfect. The relics were scattered across the entire world and hidden away, safe from discovery and destruction.
Eons have passed, and now the relics have finally awakened…
“Fucking boxes.” As he rummaged through the crates and crates of dingy papers and grimy, mysterious objects, Terry cursed his fate. The room was dark, and he stubbed his foot, making him sharply shout something not fit for human ears. His long blond hair didn’t help much, falling in front of his eyes, nor did the almost-caked-on layer of dirt on the lenses of his glasses. His old white shirt was stained and slightly-sweaty, because every so often he had to wipe his face clean. Sorting archaeological finds was filthy work…
It was supposed to have been one of the greatest experiences of his life, but everything had gone so wrong. Terry had opted to wait a year after graduating from high school until entering college, and traveled over to Europe. Spending twelve months backpacking and hiking around was as glorious as he had dreamed. Even the nights spent in cheap, dingy hostels and the (rather frequent) times that he’d been forced to sleep out under the stars were thrilling in their own way! Four months in and he’d wandered aimlessly through Spain, France, and Switzerland, arriving in Italy with barely-contained anticipation for the wonders of Rome and the Renaissance cities of Florence and Venice.
The few news programs he’d caught glimpses of during that time were going batshit insane over the next apocalyptic disease threatening the globe. Of course he didn’t really pay much attention to it. The reporters had exactly the same reaction to H1N1, mad cow disease, and the bird flu outbreak, so obviously it wasn’t actually threatening anyone. Besides, he’d never heard of any “Syndrome” being deadly or even contagious. How was this Tate-Fairchild Syndrome any different? It was probably just because it was newly-discovered.
May 3 changed all that.
That was the day China cut itself off abruptly from the rest of the world, announcing a self-imposed quarantine to prevent any more individuals with TF Syndrome from crossing its borders.
Any more?
The Freudian slip caused a pretty big stir. Before then TF Syndrome had only been found in the United States. Maybe there was something to be concerned about after all…
Or not. No deaths had been reported, or so the locals Terry asked said. Why was everyone so worried? Even though the quarantine was followed immediately by a communications blackout, he didn’t worry. Two weeks after that and he’d made it to Florence. It was the most marvelous week in his life. He couldn’t get enough of the museums! But the thought of touring Rome was enough to get him moving again.
He was passing through a little no-name village a few days’ walk from Florence when it was announced that the United States had imposed the same country-wide quarantine and news blackout as China. The realization that he wouldn’t be able to get back home brought panic, but there was no internet access at all in such a rural place. He didn’t sleep that night, sitting up in front of a small café and waiting for them to open so he could watch a broadcast of the morning news.
It wasn’t good. The European Union, though free of any cases of TF Syndrome, voted to quarantine themselves as well! He was stuck in Italy indefinitely, and because he had been supporting himself by getting his parents to wire him money every few weeks, Terry had barely anything to support himself with.
He’d had one stroke of luck when a local archaeologist and university professor opened up the rooms of his home to tourists like him who’d found themselves stranded. Because it was such an out-of-the-way place the only ones to take him up on his offer were Terry and a busload of concerned Japanese tourists, laden with cameras, hiking gear, and a one-night change of clothes. But if anything they were even nicer than the professor. They were so eager to show off their mastery of the English language and befriend a fellow traveler that Terry had learned all of their life stories by the first night. It was kind of nice, and lightened the mood. Plus, the professor had just returned from a dig in Ireland, and he paid Terry a little extra cash in addition to the free room and board when he agreed to help sort and carry the boxes of artifacts and papers gained from the trip.
There were a lot of boxes. Too many to count. Nearly every room on the ground floor of the building was crammed floor-to-ceiling with them. So Terry had busied himself for a week and a half, managing to empty two of them all by himself.
It was June now, and the worry and stress clenched in his gut like a sickening knot. He’d not bathed for the last two days, and his normally soft and glossy blond hair was matted and greasy, getting in his eyes and pooling around his neck. His last haircut had been… what, three or four months BEFORE he’d left for Europe? He missed his parents. Homesickness hadn’t plagued him in the slightest, but the moment he’d found that he wasn’t able to go back it had set in, and since then had only gotten worse. The cloud of dust rising from the artifacts got in his lungs, made his throat itch, and brought about fits of violent coughing. Each find had to be pulled out, matched with a identification number written on a list back when they were first dug up, sorted with similar items, and stored with a card noting the date of its discovery, its ID number, and what the professor thought it was.
Terry pulled the next object out of its box with a huge cloud of dust. It wasn’t caked with grime like all the rest, though. If its number hadn’t been on the list he’d have suspected the old man to have been playing a joke on him. That, or for whatever reason trying to smuggle a newly bought dildo in with his artifacts.
It was huge and glistening, larger than his forearm and jet-black. Terry guessed it was onyx or obsidian. He’d gone through a gem-and-mineral-collecting phase when he was in the eighth grade, but it’d been a long while since he’d lost interest so he couldn’t be sure. He used his T-shirt to wipe his glasses clean to get a better look at it and resisted the urge to wipe it on the thing too. Some of the old stuff would dissolve if you so much as breathed on them!
“…Holy shit! It IS a dildo!” Terry cackled, then coughed. An ancient one, anyways...
Sadly, I'm not looking for characters for NFF. I've got the plot planned out and it's not gonna be using anyone's. Not even mine. It's gonna be self-contained... but
IS looking for extras to participate in her own tale!
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/6331537/
Go ahead and volunteer if you're a macro or a hyper. Sadly, no canines are needed yet, but go ahead and offer if your fursona is anything but! She's looking for all genders. >83
Once upon a time, so long ago that the world had not yet finished forming, there lived a great race of beings in tune with nature. Their advances in technology and the arts knew no equals. There was no disease. There was no crime. No poverty, either. All lived in joy and harmony. They were Perfect.
Unfortunately such a paradise could not last. Even the greatest of civilizations must fall, and perfection brings stagnation and prevents any further improvement. The Perfect were well aware of that fact. Their seers predicted a great catastrophe, one which would tear the heavens apart and spill them across the land. Despite their power preventing such a disaster was beyond the Perfect’s power. The seers also observed a new, inferior race which would rise amid the devastation. This new race would not have the wisdom of the Perfect, and in their greed and selfishness they would not only bring ruin to themselves, but they would also ruin the world they would inherit, making it forever barren and unfit for any life.
To prevent such a tragedy, the elder Perfect used the greatest of their magics and sciences to create powerful relics, objects that would activate at the time they’re needed most, just before their users fell too far for salvation. These relics would bond with whoever discovered them and at the same time bond them permanently to the natural, physical world, giving them the power to not only restore the lands that their fellow beings had plundered but also find redemption in themselves. Once the users had reached enlightenment, the power of the relics would be spread to followers of the users’ choosing, and so on until all was saved, giving them the wisdom to surpass the greatness of the Perfect. The relics were scattered across the entire world and hidden away, safe from discovery and destruction.
Eons have passed, and now the relics have finally awakened…
“Fucking boxes.” As he rummaged through the crates and crates of dingy papers and grimy, mysterious objects, Terry cursed his fate. The room was dark, and he stubbed his foot, making him sharply shout something not fit for human ears. His long blond hair didn’t help much, falling in front of his eyes, nor did the almost-caked-on layer of dirt on the lenses of his glasses. His old white shirt was stained and slightly-sweaty, because every so often he had to wipe his face clean. Sorting archaeological finds was filthy work…
It was supposed to have been one of the greatest experiences of his life, but everything had gone so wrong. Terry had opted to wait a year after graduating from high school until entering college, and traveled over to Europe. Spending twelve months backpacking and hiking around was as glorious as he had dreamed. Even the nights spent in cheap, dingy hostels and the (rather frequent) times that he’d been forced to sleep out under the stars were thrilling in their own way! Four months in and he’d wandered aimlessly through Spain, France, and Switzerland, arriving in Italy with barely-contained anticipation for the wonders of Rome and the Renaissance cities of Florence and Venice.
The few news programs he’d caught glimpses of during that time were going batshit insane over the next apocalyptic disease threatening the globe. Of course he didn’t really pay much attention to it. The reporters had exactly the same reaction to H1N1, mad cow disease, and the bird flu outbreak, so obviously it wasn’t actually threatening anyone. Besides, he’d never heard of any “Syndrome” being deadly or even contagious. How was this Tate-Fairchild Syndrome any different? It was probably just because it was newly-discovered.
May 3 changed all that.
That was the day China cut itself off abruptly from the rest of the world, announcing a self-imposed quarantine to prevent any more individuals with TF Syndrome from crossing its borders.
Any more?
The Freudian slip caused a pretty big stir. Before then TF Syndrome had only been found in the United States. Maybe there was something to be concerned about after all…
Or not. No deaths had been reported, or so the locals Terry asked said. Why was everyone so worried? Even though the quarantine was followed immediately by a communications blackout, he didn’t worry. Two weeks after that and he’d made it to Florence. It was the most marvelous week in his life. He couldn’t get enough of the museums! But the thought of touring Rome was enough to get him moving again.
He was passing through a little no-name village a few days’ walk from Florence when it was announced that the United States had imposed the same country-wide quarantine and news blackout as China. The realization that he wouldn’t be able to get back home brought panic, but there was no internet access at all in such a rural place. He didn’t sleep that night, sitting up in front of a small café and waiting for them to open so he could watch a broadcast of the morning news.
It wasn’t good. The European Union, though free of any cases of TF Syndrome, voted to quarantine themselves as well! He was stuck in Italy indefinitely, and because he had been supporting himself by getting his parents to wire him money every few weeks, Terry had barely anything to support himself with.
He’d had one stroke of luck when a local archaeologist and university professor opened up the rooms of his home to tourists like him who’d found themselves stranded. Because it was such an out-of-the-way place the only ones to take him up on his offer were Terry and a busload of concerned Japanese tourists, laden with cameras, hiking gear, and a one-night change of clothes. But if anything they were even nicer than the professor. They were so eager to show off their mastery of the English language and befriend a fellow traveler that Terry had learned all of their life stories by the first night. It was kind of nice, and lightened the mood. Plus, the professor had just returned from a dig in Ireland, and he paid Terry a little extra cash in addition to the free room and board when he agreed to help sort and carry the boxes of artifacts and papers gained from the trip.
There were a lot of boxes. Too many to count. Nearly every room on the ground floor of the building was crammed floor-to-ceiling with them. So Terry had busied himself for a week and a half, managing to empty two of them all by himself.
It was June now, and the worry and stress clenched in his gut like a sickening knot. He’d not bathed for the last two days, and his normally soft and glossy blond hair was matted and greasy, getting in his eyes and pooling around his neck. His last haircut had been… what, three or four months BEFORE he’d left for Europe? He missed his parents. Homesickness hadn’t plagued him in the slightest, but the moment he’d found that he wasn’t able to go back it had set in, and since then had only gotten worse. The cloud of dust rising from the artifacts got in his lungs, made his throat itch, and brought about fits of violent coughing. Each find had to be pulled out, matched with a identification number written on a list back when they were first dug up, sorted with similar items, and stored with a card noting the date of its discovery, its ID number, and what the professor thought it was.
Terry pulled the next object out of its box with a huge cloud of dust. It wasn’t caked with grime like all the rest, though. If its number hadn’t been on the list he’d have suspected the old man to have been playing a joke on him. That, or for whatever reason trying to smuggle a newly bought dildo in with his artifacts.
It was huge and glistening, larger than his forearm and jet-black. Terry guessed it was onyx or obsidian. He’d gone through a gem-and-mineral-collecting phase when he was in the eighth grade, but it’d been a long while since he’d lost interest so he couldn’t be sure. He used his T-shirt to wipe his glasses clean to get a better look at it and resisted the urge to wipe it on the thing too. Some of the old stuff would dissolve if you so much as breathed on them!
“…Holy shit! It IS a dildo!” Terry cackled, then coughed. An ancient one, anyways...
Sadly, I'm not looking for characters for NFF. I've got the plot planned out and it's not gonna be using anyone's. Not even mine. It's gonna be self-contained... but
IS looking for extras to participate in her own tale!https://www.furaffinity.net/view/6331537/
Go ahead and volunteer if you're a macro or a hyper. Sadly, no canines are needed yet, but go ahead and offer if your fursona is anything but! She's looking for all genders. >83
Verda
~verda
wow.. that was a pretty good intro! loved the end remarks, the most ;)
micki9999
~micki9999
as your son, i'd be happy to be in it :3
e_voyager
~evoyager
well if you want you can use one of my characters. i have over a dozen that you can chose from depending on if you need and average joe kind of person. a villain or something else. that reminds me i need to post the story of my herm wolf on FA one of these days
drgn
~raphiel
OP
I'd like to see it. :3
